Tag Archives: education

#588: On Not Going Back to the Schoolhouse on the First Day of School for the 4th Year In a Row

I hardly give it a thoughtuntil my wife heads out of the housewith a tub of red vines for the drum line info table where herstudents will entice the 9th gradersinto joining indoor percussion. Then, I give it a thought. This is the fourth school yearin a row that I have not reportedback to workContinue reading “#588: On Not Going Back to the Schoolhouse on the First Day of School for the 4th Year In a Row”

#540: Masturbation Is Not A Thing

Here’s a poem I drafted quite a while ago, I think, while I was still teaching, that I was too hesitant about publishing, not necessarily because of the subject matter, but because this classroom inspired story was too recent, too close, and I might have been gun shy as the result of an earlier experienceContinue reading “#540: Masturbation Is Not A Thing”

#460: There was in that crazy business . . .

Here’s the third sonnet in a trilogy, the result of a sudden sonnetplosion about my 32 years as a high school English teacher, 32 years in the same school. The second sonnet in this series pretended to be about things I’d miss about the profession, but turned out to be kind of the opposite thing.Continue reading “#460: There was in that crazy business . . .”

#459: However, there are things I truly miss . . .

Here’s the second poem in today’s sonnet trilogy. (II) However, there are things I truly miss.Not the rat race of it, the perpetualFrantic pace, the bureaucratic bullshit,Pendulum swing of best schoolhouse practice;         Not the bells of it, slaving to schedules, clocks,And calendars, the battle between plansAnd grades, always decisions about whatTo neglect out of pure necessity; NotContinue reading “#459: However, there are things I truly miss . . .”

#458: It’s been ten months since I stood in front . . .

I found, every April, as a NaPoWriMo participant, that it was impossible in those 30 days not to write about teaching. In any kind of forced creativity experience, by necessity one writes about whatever presents itself in experience and thought. When I was working, teaching occupied a huge portion of my brain–something on the orderContinue reading “#458: It’s been ten months since I stood in front . . .”

#367: For Its Own Sake

Here’s a question. What motivates a person to do a thing, especially a thing that is purported to be good for a person–let’s say, eat right, exercise, learn an instrument, learn an instrument well, dance, sing, paint, or act well, and while we’re at it, add into the mix all the academic endeavors: write well, readContinue reading “#367: For Its Own Sake”

#342: May 8, Soul Work

It’s May 8. I sleep in an extra hour. I make myself a kick-ass scrambler. I pick my brother up at 9 and we drive toward I-84. There’s a bunch of teachers on an overpass wearing red and hanging their banners and I honk at them. My brother and I make our way to theContinue reading “#342: May 8, Soul Work”

#348: On the Last Day of National Poetry Month, the American English Teacher Writes Several Minimalist Poems About Things He Finds in the Staff Lounge

Coffee Made a single cup; fuel needed after waking at 4 in the morning. Vinegar There’s a bottle of balsamic on the table, waiting to be drizzled over someone’s leftovers for lunch. 100 Hits Here’s a copy of Billboard’s Hottest Hot 100 Hits, a gift to the staff lounge from an intern of mine fromContinue reading “#348: On the Last Day of National Poetry Month, the American English Teacher Writes Several Minimalist Poems About Things He Finds in the Staff Lounge”

#347: A Prose Poem Meditation on the Penultimate Day of National Poetry Month by the American English Teacher in His Potentially Penultimate Professional Year, Ending in a Rhyming Couplet

The natives are restless, the 9th graders are rowdy, won’t stop talking, interrupt almost every teacher phrase with chatter, and because my intern has the class, I am completely unruffled. It’s the penultimate day of National Poetry Month and this is my penultimate poem in prose in the April of my potentially penultimate school yearContinue reading “#347: A Prose Poem Meditation on the Penultimate Day of National Poetry Month by the American English Teacher in His Potentially Penultimate Professional Year, Ending in a Rhyming Couplet”

#311: Warning

Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate anything in this room. This bag is not a toy. This thing right here: do not eat. Watch your step. If symptoms persist, consult your physician. I am out of band-aids. Men below, please don’t throw. Slow children. This hand sanitizer is flammable. Think about that for a minute.Continue reading “#311: Warning”